


Just Needed a Friend (Lapdance Not Included)

by Weresnake



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, the rating is only that way because az literally goes into a stripclub, trans aziraphale if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 08:29:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19353262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weresnake/pseuds/Weresnake
Summary: On paper and to almost everyone in that popular establishments utter surprise, he is listed as a manager.  In his darkest of heart and to any person who possessed the simple want to be served, he was a stripper. And by every god listening, he was good at it, the best he might even add. There was nothing more satisfying then the click of his stilettos and sparse clothing clinging so close to his skin. On one such particular night, he gets a handful of cash by a sweet man asking just for a friend to chat with for the time being. He accepts the change in direction but he just wished the stranger was a bit less awkward about it...~~~~~~~~~~~AU where Crowley is a stripper and Aziraphale is a lonely man that just wants a friend to chat with.





	Just Needed a Friend (Lapdance Not Included)

**Author's Note:**

> ...Hope yall enjoy this? Please leave a comment if this should get a second chapter or if you have any thoughts :P

If you asked Aziraphale how life after college was, he would tell you how freeing it was to graduate with flying colors and walk into a new chapter in his fresh adult life. What he would tell himself at the moment, was that was bitterly and awfully alone. As he sits at the end of the cold steel table lined with old friends from college, he listens intently without much to say.  
  
Gabriel of course was leading the conversation with a story of his. He waves his hands excitedly like a goose, much to Aziraphales lingering amusement, as he reminds them of the time they bought their essays with some nice beers. “But the past is behind us, right everyone? We all strive to build our own struggles, our own adventures!” He takes a sip of water as everyone else but Aziraphale laughs.  
  
“Whats wrong Azzy?” His polite smile sours for a second as Gabriel directs everyones attention to him.  
  
“You look like your heads in the clouds again.”  
  
He blinks a bit in surprise, “what?”  
  
“You haven’t said a thing since you greeted us here, hows your bookstore doing? Your still doing that right?” Gabriel asks and Aziraphale fidgets.  
“Its still running yes. Its hit its lows but theres always people in need of books you know.” His smile brightens and he remembers the new series pf young adult novels he just preordered with some of his customers in mind. Sensing the awkward silence among the other men and woman, he keeps quiet as well out of shame. Its not like they ever cared for his rambling, often they only listened while they copied his answers for the next homework. Another beat passes and they just continue without him, making his demeanor deflate more. 

  


Before heading home, he takes a detour by the park to feed his favorite ducks with the leftover bland chips that came with his miserable lunch. “The hell am I to do really.” He mutters darkly as he tosses a hand of crushed potato crisps to the water fowl.  
  
“Do you know how those old pals of mine are doing? Wonderful! Theyre getting married, having a family of their own while i…” he sags. “While I grouse to ducks l like a crazy person.”  
  
He sighs and watches an old man with a long scarf putter over the other side of the river, across from himself and start reading the newspaper outloud. Aziraphales shoulder sag and his frown deepens.  
  
“I cant keep living alone like this.”  
  
Dumping the rest of his chips, he finally heads home to brew a plan to fruition and some nice tea as well. 

\--------------~~  
  
Friday night were always busy at Twenty Fifth Circle Bar as the end of the week always signaled to lonely bachelors (and bachelorettes, no one judges here) to throw their hard-earned money at the pretty dancers and servers. Tonight’s theme was demons and angels, a favorite. On paper, he’s listed as a manager, to almost everyone in that popular establishments utter surprise. In his darkest of heart and to any person who wanted the simple want to be served, he was a stripper. And by every god listening, he was good at it, the best he might even add. There was nothing more satisfying then the click of his stilettos and the sparse clothing clinging so close to his skin. The little wiry devil tail sways comically as he saunters around the building and if he wanted to play a little more with some poor sap he’d coil it around his finger with a seductive bite of his lip. It didn’t matter who he served in the moment, man or woman, as long as they eagerly funded his paycheck.  
  
Pocketing the crumpled cash, he strides away from a very flustered person and scopes out his next victim. Going to a quieter part of the club, a golden head of hair catches his glance. For a second, their eyes meet in the sea of people and everything melts away like an unfocused photo. Crowley is the first to blink but the other looks away, possibly in shame. He liked the shy customers, a voice whispered as his chest fluttered. They pay more out of politeness and embarrassment.  
Eyes trained on him like a stalking beast, his legs carried him closer to the fellow. He looked a bit stuffy, like those college professors but with a soft face. He sidles up next to the stranger. 

“You look pretty lonely here, deary.” he comments.  
  
“oh, I’ve honestly never been to a place like this.” The blonde looks back at him with a small smile. “Not sure how or what to do here.”  
  
He gives a dry chuckle, the first genuine one he’s had in a while. Resting a hand under his chin, he looks him over again. “You find a nice person who works here to give you the right kind of attention you wouldn’t get elsewhere.” He holds out his hand, making the stranger jump. “The names Crowley, what would you like?”  
  
“Ah… Aziraphale.” The man grabs Crowleys hand and shakes it warmly. “Is there set prices or I pay what I think is enough?”  
  
Crowley bites back a ‘of course there is you moron! Do you want a striptease or not??’ But just grins forcefully.  
  
“There is, for certain things but you should know the rules of this place….” His eyes watch Aziraphale dig out his wallet and places money on the table, his eyebrows shooting up behind his sunglasses.  
  
“Is this enough to buy some of your time?” Aziraphale asks bashfully. 

“…What?” Crowleys jaw lowers, “I’m not a bloody prostitute if that’s what you wa-“  
  
Aziraphale barks a sharp laugh and covers his mouth. ”No! God no I don’t want that. Just stay and talk with me for an hour or so, that’s all….” His cheeks turn red and warm as he watches the scantily clad mans expression takes several turns in processing the request. The longer he watches such a face journey, the more stupid he feels. Maybe making a dating profile would’ve been easier like he initially planned, but he hated using technology. He could’ve just put out an ad in the paper for gods sake…. His smile faltered and he started to get up.  
  
“I… I should go…” He says, throat closing up. His eyes widen when a soft hand reaches for his.  
  
“Hey, no. Give me a minute.” Crowley says, looking about. “I’ll take the offer. First, I do need to get out of my costume, this thing gives a hellish wedgie if I sit still too long.”  
  
“Of-of course!” Theres a gives a nervous laugh that bubbles on his lips, “I’ll still be here.” He adds with a smile.  
  
Crowley winks and slides away into the crowd of people. As soon as hes out of sight, Aziraphale deflates with a long sigh. ‘Right, he seemed nice.’ He thought miserably, ‘at least he didn’t treat is as a joke… or had me thrown out.’ Now that he thought hard about this plan, he really should’ve just put an add in the paper. Except that it was too late now. At the very least he got what he wanted for the night: someone he can talk to.  
  
The sound of a new song blaring louder before snaps his attention to the present. Various dancers get on stage as the crowd goes wild and he watches blankly. They certainly looked attractive but…. He also wondered how cold they must be wearing so little, especially if they’re throwing themselves into the air using those poles.  
  
“So… Aziraphale, huh?” A familiar voice croons and sure enough the man was back, wearing skinny jeans and a simple black shirt.  
  
“Hm? Oh yes. I…. Picked it out myself.” Aziraphale answers sheeply. “I assume your real name isn’t actually Crawly?”  
  
“Oh not quite, my full name is Anthony J. Crowley.” He puts emphasis on his last name.  
  
“Do you ever worry about someone recognizing you? That ought to be embarrassing.”  
  
Crowley grins wide, leaning forward with his arms crossed loosely on the table. “Only my coworkers recognize me really. I moved here some years back for a fresh start and I haven't looked back since.”  
  
“What… happened that made you move here, if you don’t mind me asking?” Aziraphale asks and immediately bites his lip with regret. A dark look crosses the others face but he can see the attempt to cover the thought of bringing up something hurtful with a distant look over at the dancers performing.  
  
“Doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Ah, right. Sorry.” Aziraphale replies and looks in the same direction. They both go quiet for a heavy moment. Crowley growls at himself and just turns back to him.  
  
“Where do you work?”  
  
“Where do I work?” Aziraphale echoes back.  
  
“Yeah what consumes your working days. After all, you already know my workplace.” At that, he leans forward and bumps his foot with the blondes playfully. Aziraphale jerks his foot away in surprise but is glad the mood wasn’t entirely befouled at the poor question.  
  
“I own a bookstore.” He answers. Crowley raises his brow with his head cocked to the side. “What?”  
  
“Do you really?”  
  
“Well yes, I own the bookstore I sell books in.” He frowns and scrutinizes him. “What do you think my occupation is?”  
  
“Well. I was guessing a professor type, judging by what you’re wearing.” Crowley watches two of his coworkers give him strange looks which he just mouths ‘busy right now’ at them.  
  
“Are you sure? I have no idea what people wear to these kinds of places…”  
  
As Aziraphale begins to ramble about a time he went to a part he dressed as an angel after being lied to that it was a costume part, the other snorts. Not quite listening as they get a bit irritated that said coworkers try to mouth back something elaborate. “Yeah. Wait, so how long have you lived here?” 

The night continues on with them unaware of the passage of time. They step deeper into conversation with one another, its almost like a steady dance that starts a bit clumsy and unsure but feels just right as they hold each other close and sway gently. Aziraphale could feel his eyelids grow a tad heavy but they stayed glued to Crowley as he felt some pull to this charming person. He told him most of everything: where he grew up, his strange relatives, the friends that ignore him for years and only recently decided to see him again only to pick on him…. Everything. It felt like some weight off his chest just talking and having someone talk back with some snarky comment or just words of their own. In the moment he even forgot where he was until the lights began to dim and there was an awkward cough.  
  
“Hastur!” Crowley snaps in surprise. “You better have a good reason…”  
  
“The place is shutting down in ten minutes.” The pale grimy man said. Aziraphale recalled seeing him as the barkeeper look at the two with a look of displeasure. The blondes jaw hangs open.  
  
“… Has it been that long? I need to get home.” The fatigue of staying up far later then he’d like start to catch up. “But first, do you want to meet again?”  
  
Crowley looks back at him with a blank look. “Yeah, sure. Same place though?” He gets up slow with a groan as he stretches with a half yawn. Aziraphale shuffles out and scratches the back of his head.  
  
“Erm, I don’t know. I don’t want to get in the middle of your work, how about we trade numbers and find a better time an place?”  
  
For a second, Crowley mulls the idea over but shrugs anyways. “Yeah, that’d work. Here-” He pulls out a pen barely hanging out of his pocket and tenderly grabs the man’s soft hand to write it on. “Oh and don’t worry about paying next time.” He adds, still holding the hand and giving it a light pat. “Next meetups on me.”  
  
“Oh. Oh ok.” He says a bit flustered as he pulls his hand away again.“Thank you.”  
  
“and get home safe angel.” Crowley adds quietly as he watches Aziraphale stumble out the doors.

  



End file.
